Oh my God, I actually started a blog. My very first one... I spent so much time thinking about my appearance on Oprah after millions of people start reading this and I change their lives for the better that I have no idea what to say. I know exactly what I will say on Oprah. I will be pithy and self-effacing, laughing with my chin tilted up just so. My cell phone will ring immediately upon leaving the Oprah show and it will be a Hollywood producer who is looking for someone just like me, who has no acting experience, is 31 years old and has a mom haircut. Said producer will then whisk me away to a private jet, complete with nanny, and away I go to fortune and fame. Except, damnit, I lost my cell phone. Oh well, on to the actual content of the blog (which will be life-changing and a totally new art form, so prepare yourselves/self.)
All of you reading this (which means you, Mom) will wonder how exactly I am going to be funny and cute and totally readable. I'm not even the funniest one in our family. In fact, I'm probably one of the quieter ones. Except, of course, when I am leaving messages designed to incite guilt on a certain brother's voice mail, which I have gotten for the fifty-millionth time. I don't even have anything to say to you, said brother (if you are person #2 reading this), I just want to make sure you're not mad at me. "Why would he be mad," my irritatingly non-paranoid husband says. I have no idea, but I will keep calling until he picks up and then he will be totally un-mad and I will have nothing to say and will feel really bad about interrupting his super-busy life.
(Here comes the life-changing, new art form, Oprah noticing content...)
Hmmm...kind of stuck. Maybe, instead, I will let all of my reader/s know a little bit about me. Once you do, I'm sure you will think I'm awesome. Perfect, even. The kind of person you want to be just like. (If you are a woman, a mom, a wife or a person who laughs when other people get hurt-but not too hurt.) Because you will want to be like me, you will read this, follow my life, follow my kids' lives and we will laugh together (separately) about my kids falling down, or saying hysterical things, or heckling me while I read them books. For any paparazzi/o (the singular of paparazzi...or if it's not, it should be) reading this, please do not follow my life a la Gosselin style, except of course if it leads to large amounts of publicity and money. However, that being said, paparazzi/a (much more likely than o) please do not take pictures of me until I am thin again. And, please only take them of me when I am not leaning my head a certain way that makes it appear as if I have a tiny double chin (but only in pictures, not actually in life.) Just so you/you all know I have a beautifully shaped single chin in real life.
A few things about me that you should know if you don't already, but you probably do because you are, most likely, my mom.
1.) I laugh when my kids get a little hurt (but not too hurt). Like when my then three year old took a header into a giant mud puddle after he said, "you're not the boss of me." Karma, anyone?
2.) I just ate a chocolate peppermint candy cane left over from Christmas (it's September) because we have no suitable candy in the house. It was terrible but I'm probably going to have another one when I am done writing this. (which, clearly, might not ever happen)
3.) I find that prescription for inadequate eyelash length to be absolutely ridiculous. Why don't those inadequate lash length scientists start working on the problem of a tiny double chin that only appears in pictures. Now there's something worth researching!
4.) I think that my kids are amazing, unique, hysterical and generally provide excellent fodder for a blog. (Especially because you love them so much Mom, and you're my audience, lady!!)
So, there you go. Me. In a nutshell. Must go; Oprah might be calling now and I only have dial-up. Or it might be aforementioned brother, from whom I must ascertain whether he is angry or not and then, of course, be reassured that he is not angry, never was, and still thinks I'm wonderful/perfect/the best sister anyone could have.
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